I used to be certain.
Not just confident or comfortable, but certain in the way only a young person can be when handed a complete system and told it explains everything. I had been taught a theology that divided the world neatly into what was true and what was false. It came with answers for every question that mattered and, more importantly, it came with the assumption that those answers were final.
I didn’t question it. Why would I? It was what I had been given. It felt like truth because it felt like home.
When I listen to people argue about theology now, I often recognize something uncomfortably familiar. I hear the same tone of certainty I once had. I see people defending systems they didn’t build but have fully embraced. They assume their conclusions are objectively true and everything else is objectively wrong.
I understand that mindset because I once lived there.

What happens when coach dares to put discipline before winning?
Media bias: ‘They can state the facts while telling a lie’
Love & Hope — Episode 1:
Try a new game: Make others smile — and let yourself smile with them
Ghost from my past haunts me, but leaves me without answers
My need to make others perfect reflects my fear I’m not in control
How do we intuitively see truth through the fog of perception?
Years later, my heart still fears hearing, ‘Who moved my belt?!’
Love & Hope — Update: